Thursday, May 19, 2011

Some of you Eighties Revivalists out there are probably too young to actually remember the 1980s, but it wasn't all oversized slogan t-shirts and Wayfarers, fluorescents and Body Glove, underwear-as-outerwear and Sperry Top-Siders.

Sure, the '80s had some of this,

fig. b: slippery people

this,

fig. c: into the groovey

and this.

fig. d: power, corruption, & lies

But that's not all there was.

They entertained like this,

fig. e: luau!

they drank like this,*

fig. f: Campari!

and they partied like this.**

fig. g: Parrrr-tyyyy!

But what about the haute cuisine of the Eighties? What was that like? Can you even imagine an era before sous-vide, before the widespread use of liquid nitrogen?

Well, if you're having a hard time visualizing such a cuisine, now's your chance to experience it firsthand.

You see, this coming Monday, May the 23rd, Restaurant Laloux will be presenting a very special occasion in celebration of their 25th anniversary: Eighties Night! They will be welcoming special guest chef Stelio Perombelon (Les Cons Servent, Pullman) to Laloux for one night only to collaborate on an Eighties-themed menu inspired by the year 1986, the year that Laloux opened for business.***

** In fact, they're the ones that first coined the usage of "party" as a verb.

*** Chef Perombelon has a baby face, but he claims to be old enough to have been trained in the mysteries of 1980s French cuisine. He's also one of the most talented chefs in Montreal, and a good friend of Team Laloux.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Of course, with bread this good, you barely need to do anything to it. But, then again, there's no need to be a puritanical about it. If you don't have access to "elemental bread" from a real, artisanal bakery (like Tartine, Red Hen, or Bohemian) you can bake your own, any time you like, no matter where you live.* So, go ahead, dress it up a little.

There are obviously plenty of different ways you could put those beautiful loaves to work, but Chad Robertson's Tartine Bread really is a great cookbook on top of being an exceptional baking book. It's chock full of all kinds of tempting recipes involving fresh and staled bread, including soups (white gazpacho, sopa de ajo, North African breakfast soup, etc.), salads (panzanellas, kale caesar, escalivada, etc.), sandwiches (pan bagnat, meatball sandwiches, bruschetta of all sorts, etc.), and a number of other mains and sides (tomates provençales, porchetta, savory bread pudding, etc.).

One that's become an instant favorite here at AEB, and that happens to be particularly seasonal at the moment, is Robertson's fresh chickpea hummus, which he serves as an open-faced sandwich on fried bread with olive oil-packed sardines, hard-boiled egg, and cilantro (!). Sounds inviting, right? It is. And his fresh chickpea hummus is unlike any hummus we've ever had before--lighter and more herbal (vernal, even), with a real chlorophyll punch.

Where to begin? Well, first you're going to need two pounds of fresh chickpeas. Dried and canned chickpeas are pretty much ubiquitous at this point in time, but fresh chickpeas aren't. So you'll probably have to hit up one of your better Mediterranean/Middle Eastern greengrocers. We got ours at Chez Nino, at Jean-Talon Market, and they looked something like this.

fig. b: fresh chickpeas by the bag

Then you're going to have to shell them. This takes a while, because there's no way to cheat and do them en masse--you've got to do them one by one, with your fingers. They're not nearly as finicky as fava beans, though, so don't worry. Just put on a record, pour yourself a drink, relax, and start peeling. Get a friend to help you, and it'll go twice as fast.

Once you get into it, it's actually kind of fun. There's something of the pleasure of popping bubble wrap to them, but this is endlessly more rewarding. Trust me. Instead of being left with plastic and air, you're left with something that's pretty and edible. The best are those nice full ones. They tend to be easier to shell, but they're also ripe and obviously full of flavor (try a raw one, if you don't believe me), and they also do a better job of filling your bowl. The very best are the twins, which are as cute as... well... two peas in a pod.**

fig. c: little twin peas

When you're done, you'll have a pile of freshly shelled fresh chickpeas that looks something like this.

fig. d: fresh chickpeas, shelled

And once you have those, and you've assembled all the other ingredients, you can really get started.

To make the hummus, bring a pot of water to a boil. Fill a bowl with ice water and place it nearby. Add the chickpeas and garlic to the boiling water and cook for 2 minutes. Drain and transfer to the ice water to cool them, then drain again.

Put the chickpeas, garlic, tahini, mint, lemon juice, and salt in a food processor. Process until smooth. With the motor on, add the olive oil in a steady stream until the hummus has the consistency you like. Adjust the seasoning.

Pour 1/4 inch of olive oil into a skillet and heat over medium-high heat. Add the bread and fry until deep golden brown and very crisp, about 3 minutes. Turn and fry until deep golden brown and crisp on the second side too.

Press the hard-boiled egg through a sieve like this.

fig. e: boiled egg, sieve

Spread the hummus on the fried bread and top with sardines. Garnish with the sieved egg and chopped cilantro and serve.

If you're not big on the idea of sardines, just leave them out and make the fresh chickpea hummus. It really is something else. Serve it on its own, as you would a traditional hummus. Or make a sandwich with grilled vegetables, like artichoke hearts, red peppers, or asparagus.

Just make sure to make it sometime soon. Spring is slipping away, and so is the season for fresh chickpeas.

aj

* Well, maybe not exactly "any time you like" and "no matter where you live," but nearly.

Michael "Mike" Hurley, The Words to the songs of Michael Hurley (with a foreword by Byron "C'est la guerre" Coley)

fig. b: the artist formerly known as Mike

We're pretty big fans of Mr. Hurley in general, here at AEB. (Can't you tell?) But among many, many other accomplishments and accolades (Nick Tosches: “…I don’t know what else to say about what he writes and sings, other than that it is gosh-darned great. What kind of music is it? Hell, what kind of weeds does God grow? Let’s just shut up and listen and go to where Michael Hurley is. After all, we can always turn around and come back. He can’t.”), Hurley & Co.* may well have recorded the single greatest song ever dedicated to the hamburger.** Top that.

fig. c: burger by Hurley & Co.

Will someone be interpreting "What Made My Hamburger Disappear" at tonight's function? Chances are slim (see ** below), but there's only one way to find out.

Judith Herman and Marguerite Shalett Herman, The Cornucopia, Being a Kitchen Entertainment and Cookbook Containing Good Reading and Good Cookery From More Than 500 Years of Recipes, Food Lore &c. as Conceived and Expounded by the Great Chefs & Gourmets of the Old and New Worlds Between the Years 1390 and 1899 Now Compiled and Presented to the Public in a Single Handsome and Convenient Volume